Another non-wedding post, just to recap the last week in my life, because honestly, it's getting pretty comical again.

So let's see, we left California on Wednesday with no credit cards and drove across the country, slowly but surely. We stopped the first night in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and the second in San Antonio where we have some friends. The last day we passed through our least favorite place, hell, I mean Houston, where they have signs up everywhere just reminding us that it's hurricane season. Thanks Houston, we needed that.

We made it home rather uneventfully, and have been slowly unpacking. And by slowly I mean not even a little bit yet. Mainly what we've been doing is putting the pieces back together since our stuff got stolen. Things like, recovering all the documents from the old computers, refilling prescriptions, activating new credit cards, figuring out what to do about the fact that all of our checkbooks were stolen, getting the locks on the house changed since Slappy's keys were stolen and other fun chores. I'm happy to say I'm back on my normal medications and I'm hoping that it will stop the incessant run of headaches I have. I'm trying not to panic because perhaps I've been a little stressed out, but since that last day of our honeymoon I've had a headache EVERY SINGLE DAY.

We have replaced most of the necessities and no, my insurance didn't cover a dime of it. I don't have renter's insurance (I know I should have it but until money starts growing on my tree out in front, it just isn't gonna happen) and my car insurance would only cover damage to the car, of which there was none. So basically we had to pay for everything replaceable out of our own pocket, at no small cost. In fact, at a really big one.

One good piece of new is that all the Bed, Bath and Beyond and William Sonoma gift cards have been reissued and we either have it or it's on its way to us. The only card that couldn't be fixed was a 100 dollar American Express gift card, and since that AE card was paid for with cash, it can't really be tracked. Which sucks, because let me tell you, I could use 100 bucks right now.

Today has been an extra special day in the hell that has been the past 10 days. This morning I had a gynecologist appointment to the cost of my dignity and exorbitant co-pay. Then I went to the dentist and had 3 cavities filled and found out that my insurance only covers 2 fillings per year and only one of them can be enamel colored. So I'm paying out of pocket for the 3rd and the price difference between the enamel and metallic one for the 2nd one. Also, apparently my dental insurance doesn't cover x-rays because I had an outstanding bill from my check up in May. I knew there was a reason I avoided the dentist like the plague.

Oh, I'm not done yet.

I got home from the dentist and got a phone call from my husband (I do love typing that) saying, "I just got in an accident. I'll call you right back."

I called him right back because HELLO, YOU DO NOT CALL AND HANG UP LIKE THAT. He is fine, his car is mostly fine and it wasn't his fault. Some lady pulled too far into an intersection and then backed up as he was pulling forward. Frankly, compared to the damage his mother (cough*and I*cough) already did to the car he drives, it's almost nothing. But at least someone will get this paid for.

So he called his mother and informed her of the accident and they had a brief conversation where he explained to her that we got a letter from the California Registrar letting us know that we needed to file an amendment to our marriage license because the Rabbi scratched out something on his information. Note that this is a separate amendment from the one we have to file for my first name, but we can't really deal with that yet. First we have to verify that Slappy and Kathnyn got married, then we can see about changing it so that I actually married him.

And the MIL's reaction? She informed Slappy that it just wasn't that important to get it fixed. Who cared if we weren't actually married, would that be such a big deal? As she put it, there are "more important things" to deal with right now.

It's almost like she doesn't want us to be married. It's good that she's being so subtle about it too.

And after my head exploded, we headed to the glasses store to get new glasses (of which our insurances won't cover anything because you only get 1 pair a year...), only to find the store closed, despite the big sign saying they were open until 4 (and it was 3:45). Not a big deal except that I won't be able to go at all during the week so I will be without glasses for at least 2 more weeks (1 to order, 1 to get them in), which is probably good because my credit card is weeping at the thought of paying for another pair.

And last, but not least, I start a new job tomorrow. And a new crazy-intense summer school chemistry class tomorrow. Both of which are stressing me out in ways I cannot express with words. At least none that don't involve a lot of profanity. So that's last week and today in a nutshell. It really can only get better from here, right?

Okay, so there's definitely more wedding stuff to share and I will get to it, but I'm tired and just don't have it in me to go through and pick out pictures, post them and write anything witty in between. It's Sunday night, tomorrow I have to go to the gynecologist and the dentist (honestly, I can't decide which I'm looking forward to less), and then Tuesday I start my new job and my summer school class, both of which are scaring the bejeezus out of me.

All that said, I do have a poll that I need answers to. This is a point of contention between my husband and I and I need it settled. I'm not going to tell you who does what because I do not want to skew the results (he still contests that the nose-blowing-at-the-dinner-table poll was perhaps a little biased from the start...). So, please help us out here.

When you eat a Kiwi (the fruit, not a New Zealander), do you eat it with or without the peel and why?

Your help is most appreciated. Tomorrow will be back to wedding, I promise.

So, when we last left off, it was 2:45pm the day of our wedding, I was totally dressed and ready to begin pictures, but had no flowers or florist on the scene yet.

As a little background, we got a recommendation for this florist from someone who used him last summer. She said he was personable and the flowers were great. We met with them 2 or 3 times before choosing them and we paid our balance in full in December (probably a mistake, in retrospect). Our centerpieces were provided by the place we got married at, so we were doing ceremony flowers only- a chupa (Jewish arch of flowers), aisle flowers and then bouquets, corsages and boutonnieres (which is really difficult to spell).

We were told well in advance that it would take 2 full hours to set up the chupa (after I show you pictures, you'll understand why), so we spoke with them the day before the wedding when they informed us that they'd be there at 3. We politely explained that since the ceremony was STARTING at 5, that if it was going to take 2 hours to set up the chupa that perhaps they should come earlier and we agreed on 1:30.

So imagine our surprise when we were headed out for pictures at 2:45 with NO FLOWERS. I think I did a really good job of not panicking, especially considering the earlier noticed typo on the marriage license and the fact that what started out as a small drip in the bridal suite was quickly becoming the ceiling caving in (it's no fun if things aren't completely insane) and the floor flooding. But thankfully, sometime around 3:15, the florists showed up and we began the pictures. Here are just a few of the 400 pictures...

While we were taking pictures the florists were setting up the chupa. Apparently the 2 employees who came from the florist were a husband and wife, and according to our videographer they were incredibly unkind to each other and rather loud about it. The woman yelled at her husband, told him he'd never get it set up the way he was trying, told him that it was going to fall on his head and he'd die. Really really classy stuff. But, they did get it all set up. Only, they weren't finished until 5:20, again ceremony to start at FIVE, when the woman poked her head in the bridal suite (also known as the room that once had a ceiling and dry carpet) and told me I owed them the balance. Again, I did a fairly good job of not murdering the woman who had forced all my guests to stay inside while they finished bickering, I mean, setting up the flowers, but I did convince her to call her boss who informed her that we had, in fact, paid for all our flowers. And, as it turns out, then some.

The flowers, particularly, the chupa were gorgeous. See for yourself

That said, those aisle flowers were not at all what we ordered and certainly were not 400+ dollars worth of aisle flowers. They were supposed to be big round bunches of flowers on wrought iron stands (the chupa was a wrought iron stand covered in flowers also, they were supposed to match). So we've spent the past week playing phone tag and finally got them to reimburse us for a small piece of the flowers we were supposed to, but did not get. And I know I'm complaining about this a bit, but know that for the most part, it was something that we didn't let affect our wonderful big day and that we didn't even deal with until after the honeymoon (much to the frustration of the florist I should add).

Next time (probably not until Monday), ceremony pictures, if I can find enough without Slappy's face to share. We'll see.

I got up around 9, took a shower and was lying in bed reading on my computer while my mom filled out a form for me to get copies of my marriage license when she looks up, gasps and says, "would you want me to tell you if there's a typo on your marriage license?" I honestly didn't panic because really, how funny is that? Slappy and I did not get married, rather, he married some girl named Kathnyn. I hope she's hot.

But seriously, how did we not notice that? We both swore an oath after proof-reading it saying that everything was correct. You know, minus the spelling of my first name. We decided just to deal with it later, if we had to do a civil ceremony when we got back from our honeymoon then so be it, we were still going to have our day (we actually just have to fill out some paperwork when the license gets sent to us, so it'll be a while, but should get straightened out).

At around 10:45 I headed to Macy's to the Clinique counter to get my make up done. We had done a practice run the day before (hence why I look somewhat put together in the picture from the dinner the night before) and they did an absolutely beautiful job. It looked natural but elegant and it stayed on all night.

From there, we headed to the golf course where we were getting married and my hairdresser was waiting and ready. Given the hair situation, we decided to go with a half up, half down curly thing to hide the shag in the back.

Once the hair was done, we had to secure the veil and get the bridesmaids dressed...

And then it was my turn...

Meanwhile, at his sister's house, Slappy and his groomsmen were getting dressed. I can only show you 2 pictures, neither of which contain his head, and one of which contains the Mignon Faget cuff links that someone in Maui now has. But he looked sharp to say the least.

Once we were finally ready, the pictures were set to begin. Or were they? It was now after 3 (wedding to start at 5) and the florist had yet to show up, which is always a good sign.

The day after the rehearsal (Friday) Slappy and I parted ways for our final hurrahs with our friends/family. To say that our parties were a little different would be a vast understatement. I don't have any pictures of the bachelor party (I probably wouldn't be able to share them anyway), which is probably good for all of us, but I do have a few from my parties that I'll share. I may come into more pictures later, but for now you'll have to understand that I didn't have a camera with me and that you're going to be bombarded with so many pictures later you'll probably be glad to have a light picture blog today. Okay, you won't, but I tried.

Slappy was whisked off to Vegas Friday morning with his brother-in-law and older brother. Both of these men are great guys, but both of them are a little on the not-so-responsible side and I was scared for his life to put it mildly. Especially since his brother was driving and has been known to, well, smoke a lot of weed. And drink a lot of alcohol. And then drive. But anyway, they made it safely and as I understand it, here's how most of the night went:

Drink, gamble, switch casinos. Drink, gamble, switch casinos. Drink, drink, gamble, drink. At some point during the night they made their way to a club (of a nature I don't want to talk about) where the alcohol caught up with Slappy and he slept in the bathroom for a while, though triumphantly, never threw up. He then moved outside and fell asleep on the curb next to a trashcan. In Vegas. In the middle of the night.

Here's where I wish I had pictures. Apparently, while sleeping there, many tourists came up and took pictures with a semi-passed out Slappy. Like just random strangers took a picture with the guy who was so drunk he was sleeping by a trashcan outside of a "club." That's my husband. But seriously, if you were in Vegas on June 5th or 6th and took a picture of a guy sleeping by a trashcan, please please email me. I'm willing to shell out some cash. No really, I'm totally serious.

Anyway, eventually Slappy got to bed, and the next morning he and his brothers drove back, each with a different variety of hangover (it was Slappy's first hangover by the way, how cute is that?). His brother-in-law was tired and grumpy. His brother had the headache sensitive to light, and Slappy was fine until he ate, and then he spent the rest of the day feeling like he might hurl, which he says he did not. They all made it back alive, with all their fingers, toes and teeth. Which is good because they knew I would hunt them down and kill them if they had done anything else.

Now, onto the much tamer bachelorette party.

We got up at the ass-crack of dawn and went to Disneyland. My older (perfect) sister and younger (angstful teenage) sister drove me, and we met up with my sister-in-law (Slappy's sister) and several of my friends from high school, college and various former jobs, to play for the day. My flower girl and ring bearer and their mother were also at the park that day, but we just briefly met up for lunch, it was an adult disney day, if that's even possible.

The first stop was picking up the bridal mickey ears, because clearly I needed to be identified as the bride.

Then we rode rides, ate crap all day (including a provocative chocolate banana, which there are pictures of that I won't be sharing) and eventually headed to Downtown Disney to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner. And lingerie. My friends all brought in different lingerie for the party, and so we sat around, had drinks, good food and opened up underwear in public. It was awesome. Unlike my other half, I did not wake up hung over (it most definitely would not have been my first. Or twenty-first...), though we did get home really late. Or maybe it wasn't and I'm just old. Hard to say.

Saturday I went and got manicures/pedicures with my sisters, during which my younger (angstful teenage) sister broke up with her boyfriend over the phone, which made for a super-fun day. Then we saw the Sex and the City movie and then a really awkward dinner with my mom, dad, step-mom, step-dad and their respective families. All at one table. I was so tired I almost fell asleep in my plate.

(The restaurant made me a Baked Alaska with the world "congratulations" spelled out under it. It was really sweet except for the whole egg allergy, so my family ate it instead.)

And after our separate dinners, Slappy and I both went to bed, separately of course, in preparation for the next morning.

Next up, getting ready for the wedding pictures. Yep, I'm drawing this out, but it lets me re-live it a little bit and that's super bueno. Not to mention, the more separate blogs, the more pictures you get to see. See, it's really all about you guys and not at all about me relishing in not having to be creative or entertaining for a few days.

Okay, so before the wedding was the rehearsal and the affiliated dinner. I have pictures of the rehearsal itself, but like zero of them don't contain Slappy (by the way, you're going to be seeing a lot of pictures of just me, and it's not because I'm crazy conceited, it's because my husband does not wish to be pictured at all. Ever. It's like he thinks if a prospective patient saw a picture of him being an idiot they might not want to send their kid to his practice. Paranoid.), so I can't really show you much from that. Not to mention that like none of them are any good. But I do have pictures from the dinner, so here we go.

The rehearsal was slated to begin at 4. Of couse, 75% of those expected at the rehearsal weren't there until about 15 minutes past then, and by the time we began the rehearsal at like 4:25, almost none of them were sober, including my husband who ordered a shot of tequila after dealing with his mother for 10 minutes. My father practiced walking me down the aisle with a bloody mary in the arm he wasn't using to walk me. Classy.

Slappy's sister made cards with directions for everyone to get to the dinner. To be honest, the place was like 5 minutes away and when I first saw the directions I commented that they were a little weird, but no one listened. Which was awesome like 10 minutes later when the same sister called to let us know that the directions were wrong and that we needed to track down my whole family who was getting lost in Orange County, so they could get back to the where they were supposed to be. It was fairly humorous because most of them had realized they were going the wrong direction, but they didn't know how to get there, even though it was literally right next door to their hotel.

Meanwhile, Slappy and I realized that we had forgotten the only important presents for the rehearsal (the ones for the children who are too young to wait an extra day when they've been promised presents), so we had to go to his sister's house, open a window, climb through it and take the presents. Yea, we definitely did not look like burglers or anything. But we did make it, albeit about 15 minutes later than everyone else, to our own party. I believe that's called fashionably late. Or slightly rude. Not that our absence prevented anyone from starting with cocktail hour.

The restaurant was a small French place with cute little details all around. Our photographer was there (it's a long story), which means I now have some pictures to share, honestly, mostly of scenery, but hey, it's better than nothing, right?

(Had to remove the first picture- it had too much personal information that I didn't notice until I read through it again!)

We enjoyed cocktail hour outside on the patio and then had a lovely dinner inside. There were several toasts made, my father cried, which was awesome and we just ate, drank and were merry. It ended up being a much nicer experience than I had anticipated and while it was exhausting to sit at a table with everyone's parents, it actually ended up being easy and natural conversation.

I only have 2 pictures of me that I can share (read: that don't contain Slappy), but I figured any were better than the staph pictures of a few weeks ago (let's pretend like this is the first time you've seen me, these are much nicer). So enjoy.

Four score and almost 2 weeks ago, I got married, and in a few days, I will begin posting a little bit each day about the wedding day, as well as details about the honeymoon, with great emphasis on the fact that both of them were absolutely fabulous. There were snafus here and there (and most of them are humorous, I must say), but aside from the events of the last afternoon on Maui, I wouldn't change any of it. I had planned to do this series of wedding/honeymoon blogs starting the day we got back from Hawaii, but, well, life intervened and I won't be able to just yet. I spent some time considering what to do regarding pictures and have decided to unmask myself officially (in non-staph pictures no less) since I'm no longer teaching. I still have a job that requires a certain amount of professionalism, but I doubt many of the people I'll encounter there will read here, and I'm just not willing to deprive y'all of wedding pictures.

In other news, we have purchased new computers and are very fortunate in that when we upgraded to the newer operating system earlier this year, we backed up our computers on a hard drive. Using a program we'll be able to literally load our old computers onto the new ones. There will be a few things here and there that are lost (like the surfing pictures, which I was on the fence about sharing, but am bummed about not having any proof of my surfing ability), but for the most part, we'll have ourselves functioning somewhat normally again soon. Also, Apple was running a promotion where you get a free iPod touch with the purchase of a MacBook (which is what we got), so we were able to replace our iPods free of charge. Free is a really good thing right now. Really really good.

We do not have any debit or credit cards (had to cancel them all because the information was stored on the computer) and that's making life remarkably difficult. Thankfully we have money in the bank, but we can only access it by going in person, into the bank, to make withdrawals. This is particularly complicated in situations like tomorrow when the bank will be closed, we have 37 dollars and have to find a way to get gas to drive to Los Angeles and eat at least one meal. It can be done, it's just very laborious and stressful.

My body seems to not be loving the stress, or perhaps the lack of sleep, or both. In the past 2 days I've gotten around 9 hours of sleep, have been withdrawing from a drug and have been running around like a crazy person trying to right myself in a number of ways. I am now the proud owner of a wicked sore throat and a constant headache, which I think is just my immune system taking a breather. I can't blame it, but at the same time, having a cold right now is not my favorite thing. And in case you were curious, my boob is not at all improved. It's not closed up, it's not dried up, it's not cleared up and I don't go to the doctor for another 10 days or so.

There are certainly good things going on, but to be perfectly honest with you, being robbed in Hawaii has changed a lot for me. It shook my sense of security to a deep level. Knowing how quickly our personal space was violated just jolted me into a reality I had not been in before. I have never had anything stolen, I have never had my home or car or any other possession violated by someone, so this is foreign to me, which I suppose is probably a good thing. Right now one of my greatest concerns is that whoever broke into our car and stole our things now has my name, address, phone number, and a key to my home (the locks are going to be changed soon). This person can access so much without any effort and that scares the bejesus out of me. This nightmare for me, at least mentally, is far from over.

I know this seems dramatic because we weren't held up at gun point, we weren't injured or in danger, but there's a fundamental trust in other human beings that has been devastated for me. I am afraid to leave anything in my car, or my house for that matter. I'm petrified of the next thing that's going to go wrong, the next wrong turn or mistake that leads to a similar situation. I'm plagued by the guilt of this, and I want more than anything to move past it. I'm hoping that a change of scenery, getting back to my home, my bed, my cat, my normal life and then starting the next phase of it for reals (you know, as in not staying in our parents' houses) will help shake some of this away. If I never see any of the things that were stolen again, I will survive, I will be fine without them. But I know that I have lost a carefree innocence and a trust in other people that may not be recovered for a long time, if ever.

I appreciate you all sticking around and supporting me and I want you to know that I fully intend to get past this, talk about all the wonderfulness of the past 2 weeks and move on with my life. If you'll bear with me just a few more days, I'm going to try my best to get back to some semblance of normalcy, even if it's only a facade. Even a facade of normalcy would be awesome at this point.

like a woman having a really REALLY bad day in which someone has to come to her FUCKING blog and leave an anonymous comment like the following, left at 3:11pm.

"That really sucks, but maybe that is a lesson for people about consumerism and responsibility. Who actually needs all of that crap for a vacation? Laptops, gameboys, ipods, dvds on your honeymoon? (good luck with married life) Have you ever heard of conversation and a good book? And why would you bring $700 worth of gift cards with you? Have you heard of travelers checks? Also, you should know better than to leave anything of value inside a car, locked or not, within the view of passers by. Hmmm.....maybe next time you'll use the trunk."

I'm going to dissect this and use a lot of foul language, so just be ready. (And if you're not the anonymous assface, please feel free to skip over the rest of this. Though it has more information about the robbery, so if you're interested and not offended by foul language, go on ahead.)

That really sucksFirst, yes, it does suck, and thank you for your sympathy. That would've been sufficient. But no, you obviously couldn't stop yourself, that horse you're riding on is awfully high, isn't it? I'd hate for you to fall off on your head.

Who actually needs all of that crap for a vacation? Laptops, gameboys, ipods, dvds on your honeymoon? (good luck with married life) Have you ever heard of conversation and a good book? First, fuck you. You do not know anything about my marriage. How dare you make assumptions about it?

Second, no we don't "need" all that crap for our honeymoon, we're not as shallow as you seem to think (or as stupid as you think, just for the record). A lot of it came because we simply had no place to put it after the wedding. I had to use my computer quite a lot on the day before and the morning of my wedding, so it had to be put somewhere afterwards, though I'm sure in your perfect (and lonely) world, there was a better solution. To be honest, the only thing my computer was used for the entire 10 days was to watch dvds together, which, whether your realize it or not, is an activity you can do with a loved one. Though I'm assuming you have very few of those considering that you're a HUGE douche tool.

Slappy's computer, however, was a necessity, because however unfortunately, even on a honeymoon things still happen. We still had to pay bills, deal with our landlord and housing situations, deal with school and money issues. You know, real life, which even on a honeymoon, doesn't actually stop.

The gameboy was primarily for the flights to and fro and because every once in a while when you're too tired from the many many sexings that occur during a honeymoon (again, assuming that since you're such an ass you've probably never been on one), you don't want to read a book. Sometimes sitting next to each other, playing a mindless video game is just relaxing. Honeymoons are also vacation, so it seems like it's a time where you could, oh, I don't know, just chill the fuck out.

And no, actually I haven't ever heard of conversations or good books. I definitely didn't bring several books and I didn't speak a single syllable to my husband. In fact, I think I'm possibly illiterate and mute. Which is better than being an asshole, which is what you are. Have you ever heard of not being a jerk? Or not being condescending? No, I didn't think so.

And why would you bring $700 worth of gift cards with you? Have you heard of travelers checks?Nice one, see here's where your assumptions make you look especially like a jerk, because my husband already feels spectacularly guilty about this particular part of the theft. We did not ever make it to a "home" or anywhere other than a hotel after our wedding (you know, since we were on our HONEYMOON) and subsequently had no where to put the gift cards after they were opened, so they were stowed safely in Slappy's backpack. We didn't have any intention of using them on our honeymoon as Hawaii doesn't even have a Bed Bath and Beyond and who the fuck would go registry shopping on their honeymoon? But thanks for the guilt trip. I'm sure he needed that.

And also, no, totally haven't heard of traveler's checks. Have you heard of debit cards? They're a new revolution sweeping the nation for oh, gee, um, the past 20 years. We used those quite successfully thankyouverymuch.

Also, you should know better than to leave anything of value inside a car, locked or not, within the view of passers by. Hmmm.....maybe next time you'll use the trunk.This is my favorite part, because this is where I get to use that saying, the one about assuming about about how it makes you an asshole? That one. You're an asshole.

All of our luggage was stored in our trunk, all the car doors were locked and we were parked in a non-secluded area. The only reason our bags were in the car in the first place were because we had to check out of our hotel at noon and our flight didn't leave until 8:45, so we had a little time to kill. Normally I don't make it a practice of keeping thousands of dollars worth of things in my car, but my ability to store things in magical hiding places was defective yesterday, so we had to store them in the trunk. Since you're all knowing, where would you have stored the stuff (knowing that there was no place to store it at our resort, yes, we asked, just for the record)? I mean, clearly you know better than I do, so please enlighten me.

But if you'd like to know how guilty I feel about all of this I can tell you that I did in fact open the trunk in the parking lot and take something out of my bag just before we believe it was stolen, so yea, that was probably my fault. And no, I haven't spent countless hours wishing I could go back in time and un-do that one action or watch more carefully or in any way fix that mistake I made. In case you wondered, I already feel like shit, but it totally helps to have you point it out. Definitely necessary.

I hope that next time something bad happens to you and you reach out for support, someone lectures you on all the things you did wrong and how it should be a lesson. In fact, maybe this should be a lesson for you: go away and stop being a dick because your assumptions and patronizing comments are not needed or welcome here. If you have something to say to me (or anyone for that matter, let's make this a lesson for you), grow a spine and leave your name or send an email like an adult would. I may have made a few bad decisions yesterday, but at least I'm not just jumping around the internet trying to put other people down. You must have a pretty crappy life to get off on this kind of thing.

In my mind, you're just as bad as the thieves who stole our stuff because you think that it's our fault rather than theirs. I pity you because I'd imagine you must lead a lonely and difficult life. And I sincerely hope you don't have children, because I can only imagine the hell they must go through everytime something bad happens in their lives.

Just so you know, I likely won't be updating for a few days even though we're back on the mainland for good.

On the last day of our honeymoon, someone stole both Slappy's and my laptop bags out of our locked rental car. The bags contained not only laptops, but ipods, gameboys, checkbooks, prescription glasses (my 400 dollar bifocals, and Slappy's 200 dollar glasses), prescription medication (it would be AWESOME to be able to take my Xanax right now...) and a shitload of games, dvds and just our stuff. Other noteworthy items included NOLANotes' husbands Mignon Faget Tux Studs, Slappy's Mignon Faget Cuff Links, his yarmulke from the wedding and all our gift cards from the wedding (worth somewhere around 700 bucks).

Because our computers contained our credit and debit card information (and our checkbooks were taken) we've had to cancel all our debit and credit cards, so even though I have enough credit to get a new computer to replace mine, I don't have a freaking card to pay for it with. Or any money to get gas to drive to my mom's from my sister's. Or any way to pay for lunch.

Oh, and most importantly, they pretty much stole my faith in humanity because who does that kind of shit? What kind of person does that? I just don't understand.

Okay, so still in Hawaii for another day and a half, but felt somewhat compelled to write something because the Father's Day post was still staring at me (Slappy is still sleeping, for the record, so I'm not taking time away from him for this) and perhaps I have a small blogging/technology addiction. Whatever. I just wanted to give you a rough idea of what's coming up both here and generally in my life, because after this beautiful Hawaiian vacation, things are going to hell in a specially woven handbasket.

We got our wedding pictures today (online) and eventually I'll share a few with you. There will be at least a good couple of wedding blogs, many good honeymoon blogs (also with pictures) and then I'm sure several ranting blogs about what's happening next.

After a few more days in Los Angeles, we will be driving back to good old NOLA. 3 days in the car, 800+ miles of mother freaking Texas, and then we will finally be home. Don't get me wrong, this vacation and the time in California has been priceless, but I miss my home and friends and my cat and I'll be glad to sleep in my own (I guess OUR own) bed. This plan puts us home sometime late next week depending upon how much of Texas we ignore the speed limit through.

Then on June 30th, I have a gynecologist appointment, a dentist appointment (3 cavities to be filled) and possibly a date with a shotgun. Seriously, that day is going to blow, but my new! job starts the next day and it needed to be done so I don't give that great first impression of asking for time off. I also have an appointment with the boob doctor on like the 3rd because she couldn't fit herself into doctor appointment Monday, but for inquiring minds, we're in a holding pattern. That is, no matter what I do, it continues to hurt and leak and ooze. And I've now finished round 4 of ass kicking antibiotics, and seem to be infection-free, so that is certainly good news. I have a sneaking suspicion that when I go in there we're going to later, rinse and repeat the same thing as last time. I'm guessing she's going to re-silver nitrate it and I'm going to continue packing it until it decides to close. Which right now, at 2 months post surgery, seems like it might be never.

Anywho, on July 1st, I report to my new job at 9am. Yikes (p.s. NOLA peeps, how long will it take me to get from uptown to Kenner by 9 in the morning? Is there a better route than the interstate? Heeeeeelp me). I will get out sometime around 4ish (I get out more like 6ish MWF) and then have my first night of summer session Chemistry II from 7 to 10. Yea, let that soak in for a while. MTWTh from 7-10pm for 4 weeks. If I post something completely incomprehensible on July 25th, just assume I've consumed massive quantities of alcohol in celebration with being done with that class because I'm pretty sure it's going to hand me my ass.

Once that's over, I'll have 2 weeks to study, fast and furious style for the GRE, take that, not suck at it, and then begin my regular fall classes, which include child psychology and microbiology, both online, but with a Tuesday 7-10 lab on campus. Things should settle down for me nicely once classes start, but I've got one mean month before that happens.

Some of you may be wondering if this was a long way of saying that I was taking a blogging break, and just so you know, you'd be wrong. All this really means is that you can expect a lot of blogs in capital letters about Texas, a lot of general pondering about how the hell to do Chemistry and I'm sure nice (and undoubtedly correct) usage of GRE vocabulary. If anything, I think this blog is about to get more smarterer.

Yep, we're going to get our education on. But not until after we get our wedding and hooneymoon on first.

Yes it's my honeymoon and yes I only have 5 more days here, but I thought I could take a minute and give an appreciative shout out to the guys on this, their one day of the year. And in case you were wondering, eventually, once I'm back on the mainland, there will be blogs about the wedding and honeymoon, with pictures of both (none containing Slappy, sorry).

I have not had a traditional relationship with my father. He walked out on my mother on their 16th anniversary, got engaged to someone else on their 17th anniversary and was remarried very shortly thereafter. The years prior to him leaving were marred with very large quantities of alcohol, a demon I think he'll alway struggle with some and great unhappiness. I know he'd never put this label on it, but my father has suffered greatly from depression and he almost lost everything for it.

But those imperfections are things that I've tried to leave in the past and not make up a big part of our relationship because those sat between us for a long time and at some point you realize that the past just can't be undone. Do I think what he did was crappy? You betcha and as an 11 year old kid, it felt like the end of the world. But the world kept on turning and now it's 14 years later and a lot of other things have changed greatly.

It wasn't until the past few years that I've grown much closer to my father. His temperament has changed as time has passed. He's a very laid back guy, thinks he's funny, but he cares when something's up. He was the only family member who didn't try to talk me out of brain surgery, he just asked for information so he could learn about it himself. He was the only human being in our universe who didn't make the wedding more difficult. We'd come to him with plans and he'd be supportive, no matter what they were. We'd come to him with concerns and he'd be helpful, no matter what it was. He told us it did not matter where we got married, what he was wearing, what temperature it was outside, if there were FREAKING MARDI GRAS BEADS, or if we had any guests at all, as long as he got to make that walk with me.

He was my beacon throughout the planning process. With The MIL being especially bat-shit crazy the last few weeks, he's the parent I turned to for a little bit of sanity. When I was most stressed at the hotel with my parents (while Slappy was off in Vegas), he's the parent who calmed me down, who righted me and who got me where I needed to be.

My father also embraced Slappy from the moment we began dating. There was never the pre-text of his Judaism like with much of my family, my father just liked him and knew that I did, and that's all that mattered. He supported each step we took, including the move to New Orleans. He twice drove my car out with me, logging thousands of miles and even more wonderful conversations and memories.

And importantly, after being stonewalled and unemotional at my sister's wedding (okay, that might be an exaggeration, he was not teary) he balled like a baby when Slappy spoke at the rehearsal dinner, again during my sister's toast and he sobbed the entire duration of our dance together. After years of wondering about my father's love, I know now, more than ever, how deeply it runs.

We do not have a traditional relationship, but my father has made up, in spades, for the mistakes of his and my youth. He has become the father to me that I most needed at this junction in my life. He will (some day far far far far away) be such a fantastic grandfather and I know that no matter what I do, he is going to be proud of me. Even if it means taking a big leap like leaving teaching. Or taking in debt when we don't have room for it. Because he sees the goal and understands how important it is to me.

I asked The Artist Formerly Known as The Fiance how he felt about going with Slappy instead of Dr. Awesome since it was a tough choice and y'all seem to appreciate Slappy more, not to mention that it wouldn't change the prize since it was submitted by the same anonymous commenter. And he got this goofy grin on his face and told me if I really wanted to know his opinion. I said yes, to which he said, "I don't care, I'm Anonymous."

Apparently when i listed the rules, I failed to mention to my husband that it wasn't really fair for him to enter in his own judging contest. So yea, um, he picked his own name and will be henceforth known as Shithead, I mean Slappy.

He wanted to know what his prize was and I promised him a souvenir (despite the fact that he's right here with me, it's best just not to argue with him), but I thought I'd also extend a prize to the only entry that Slappy liked besides the ones that he submitted himself. This person clearly understands my husband's extreme modesty and the entry "His Exalted High Mightiness" from Robin was on his list of highly praised names (with his 4, of course). So Robin, if you'll shoot me an email, I'll pick you up a little something from our tropical paradise and send it to you when we get back to the mainland (or more likely when we get back to NOLA at the beginning of July).

And now, I'm going to finish my lunch and chilax until the Luau later tonight. Tomorrow we learn to surf and then will probably miniature golf. Saturday we're taking a half-day waterfall hike through the rainforest, Monday we're parasailing (holy crap) and Tuesday we're taking a combination kayak/snorkeling tour. And in all the times inbetween we'll be relaxing, doing other things I won't specify here, and snorkeling in our own little cove with the bajillions of sea turtles in our backyard.

Congrats to Robin and now I'm going to go spend some time with my husband, Slappy.

I love New Orleans, but I think I'm going to stay here for good. Right now, I'm still extremely full from my breakfast of white chocolate/macadamia nut pancakes with both maple and coconut syrups, sitting in the living room of our condo place, staring at the ocean. Yes, this is the life I think I was meant to lead.

And guess what else I get to ingest besides extremely awesome food? More Levaquin! Because hey, it's me and now my boob is leaking what looks to be snot. Nothing says honeymoon at the beach like a boob leaking snot. Apparently this is an old hematoma that piggybacked the seroma, and now have joined forces to leak through the not closed incision. I know. And you wouldn't have believe how much the nurse cheered when I told her that I refilled the Levaquin prescription before leaving for Hawaii so that they wouldn't have to sort out the cross country prescription prescribing issue. Yep, I'm a worst case scenario preparer.

So, all that said, now I'm going to go slap a waterproof bandage on the snot boob, go rent some snorkeling equipment and with any luck, see me some sea turtles.

On tap for the week: a half day hiking tour through the rainforest (with many waterfalls), surfing lessons, ATV tour, parasailing (if Dr. Awesome aka Slappy can convince me I won't die), a Luau and probably a trip to a neighboring island for more snorkeling.

See, I told you about to the boob so that your envy over my supremely fantastic honeymoon wouldn't overwhelm you. And because I think the mental image of a boob leaking snot is pretty gnarly and I'm just feeling like that kind of person today.

Yes, this is both a declaration of our marriage (which so far, wedding included is absolutely incredible and more details will be forthcoming eventually) and a declaration of a winner of the naming contest. However, the commenter was anonymous, so I'll need y'all to be honest and I'll need the original submitter to shoot me an email. And just fyi to that anonymous poster, 4 of the 5 names he was choosing between were your 4. Slappy came in at a very very close second.

So anyways, we're off to Maui tomorrow. I'll probably jump on with pictures and nonsense some, but mostly, I'm just going to go enjoy my honeymoon.

I've almost deleted the title like 3 times because I feel like I'm jinxing the hell out of myself.

I was going to blog about the drama that went on in my family today (involving boyfriends and breakups over phones and fights in hotel lobbies), but I decided to skip right over the funny and go right to the mushy. I'm getting married in like 18 hours, it's my party and I'll try to make you cry if I want to.

I don't get to make a toast at my own wedding (well, I could, but since my grandfather got ahold of the mic at my sister's wedding and tried to sell of his remaining grandchildren it is a very closed mic reception), but there are some things I'd like to say so I thought this might be a good place to do it.

Before I met TF, my life was not on a set course. I had no direction, I had no passion for really anything. I was lonely and I was cynical. Next Saturday night will be 4 years since we met and I can't help but think that someone somewhere had a hand in this.

I took a job at the last minute on the recommendation of a college friend and instead of just a summer job, I found my soul mate. I found a person that completes me better than I ever imagined possible. I found someone who I've given my whole heart to and have never looked back. I found someone who allows me to be my best, and still loves me when I'm my worst. I found a future, I found a home and I found my path in life.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring (okay, I know what tomorrow literally will bring, I'm speaking figuratively here), but I know that I have a person by my side who I want to spend the rest of my life with and whom I can't imagine spending another day without. I have a love that before TF I didn't believe existed and I'm constantly amazed at how it continues to grow each day.

I am not scared, or anxious about getting married tomorrow because nothing feels more right than this. I can't wait to begin this next chapter in my life because I know that my best friend will be there with me, each step along the way. He is my true north, my past and my future.

And I know everything won't go perfectly tomorrow, but if at the end of the day we're officially married, then there's really just no way that I can't imagine a day better than that.

Thank you all for coming along for the ride and don't expect a blog tomorrow night. I suspect I'll be busy.

So things have calmed down some. First, I should clarify, we're not getting married until Sunday, so I've got a whole more day of alternating relaxing and freaking out before the wedding.

The rehearsal was the textbook definition of insanity. The MIL threw a small fit because she was standing on the opposite side as she had been standing on during her daughter's wedding and somehow no one ever thought to mention that then her daughter was the bride, where as this time, her son is the groom. There are a lot of educated people in my family and no one thought of this. Frightening. But also, just trying to coordinate 20 people at once was pure chaos. Not to mention that in true family style, most of my family already had drinks in their hands.

And then there was leaving behind the gifts for the flower girl and ring bearer, also known as the only two people who absolutely HAD to have gifts last night because they are 6 or under and you do not promise presents and not deliver. So we had to drive to TF's sister's house, where the nanny was home, but wouldn't answer the door, so I had to open one of the windows and crawl in to get the gifts. It was awesome. We were an hour late to our own rehearsal dinner.

The dinner itself ended up being really nice. Super nice restaurant, our photographer came (long story, but he was great) and I only almost killed my future MIL five or six times. We had a truly great time and I think pretty much everyone enjoyed themselves.

Today, my older sister, my youngest sister, my future sister-in-law, and three of my good friends and I went to Disneyland. I wore mickey ears with a veil (bought for me) all day, we met up with some family at lunch and just had a damned good time. One of the things that Chiari robbed from me was the right to ride roller coasters. It's just not a good idea to let your head bang on things when your brain is under a lot of pressure. Since the surgery, I have been cleared to ride them as tolerated and though I was hesitant, the very first ride of the day was Space Mountain. Admittedly, it jostled my neck a lot, in fact, it was enough that I didn't go near the Rocky Mountain Railroad or Matterhorn because I knew where my limit was, but it was still great. We had a really nice dinner and drinks at the Rainforest Cafe and fun lingerie gifts to boot. Really, just the nicest day I could've imagined. I know some of you are probably thinking that that is a lame bachelorette party, but it was exactly what I wanted. I drank myself into oblivion in college, I have sowed those wild oats, so just being with friends, having a care-free, hassle-free, errand-free day was exactly what I wanted and what I got. It was the picture of awesome.

The Fiance on the other hand, was driven to Vegas for the night. They got a late start and had a small car SNAFU when the car wouldn't start, which they thought was because of the starter, but ended up being because there was a silent alarm on the car and when it goes off, the car doesn't start. It took them a while to figure this out (that's the obvious downside of a silent alarm) and then they were on the road again. He's been there for about 7 hours now and I'm not going to lie, I'm scared for him. Hopefully he'll be returning to his Hooter's hotel room sometime soon to stop drinking and get some rest, but I know that that's unlikely. I also know that I'll be infinitely less stressed out when he's safely back in Los Angeles tomorrow. But be proud of me because I haven't called him once since he got there and you have no idea how much restraint that's taken. Much more than I believed I had.

Tomorrow (Saturday) is manicures and pedicures, then lunch with the sisters, then Sex and the City movie and then a family dinner with my Grandma, Aunt, Uncle, Dad, Step-mom, Mom, Sister and younger Sister. It's going to be an odd group, but a nice last meal before the wedding on Sunday. Everything else is ready for Sunday and I'm just beside myself with excitement over it. TF gave a beautiful speech at the rehearsal dinner which made everyone (my father included) tear up and just reminds me how much I love him.

I can't even begin to explain to you how amazing it is to know that I'm getting married in 41 hours. 41 hours and I'll be someone's wife, and not just anyone's, but my other half, my best friend and the greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I can't even put these emotions into words or coherent thoughts, I'm just beside myself with excitement. I simply cannot wait for Sunday to be here.

-Received 13 phone calls (this whole thing worked better when I started and had received only 8 phone calls, but I'm not going to fudge facts for the sake of a more cohesive, numerically ordered blog)-Made 7 other phone calls-Written 6 wedding related emails-Scheduled 5 finger or toenail related appointments-Left 4 messages on answering machines-Written 3 checks-Played 2 rounds of mario kart (what? I needed a break)-Taken 1 yeast infection pill (yea, that's right, all my inhibitions are gone people and hi, body? could you just quit on me A LITTLE MORE PLEASE?)-Written precisely 0 of the thank you cards I need to write.

Sorry friends, no decision has been made yet. I've been trying to nag just a little bit, but frankly our lives have been remarkable different kinds of crazy-ass busy today and no amount of nagging would've give us more hours in the day to get everything done. Apparently the past week of having nothing to do was really just to relax us so that today could pistol-whip the crap out of us.

I just spent the better part of 6 hours wrapping boxes of chocolates more or less by myself. My sister did a few, but most of those had to be re-wrapped after (and not just because I'm neurotic, but because it looked like I let someone with a mental disability wrap them and that's not so much the theme I was aiming for) and she went to bed before I was even half-way done. They're now all wrapped but so help me God if anyone (read: The MIL) says or thinks a single negative syllable about them, I'll shove the box right down their (her) throat.

Tomorrow seems like it's going to be more of the same, or rather, the beginning of the real chaos to come. I have 8 trillion phone calls to make, things to finish up, thank you notes to write, things to pack and otherwise just crap to organize before my mom gets here at 11 to finish the chocolate boxes with labels/flourishes. And then we're driving across town and at 4 we have the rehearsal, followed by the rehearsal dinner.

And then Friday I'm spending the day at Disneyland with a bunch of friends for my bachelorette party while The Fiance is being whisked away on his super-secret bachelor party which is giving me panic attacks every 10 to 20 seconds. I have a great fear of being headline news and the one that keeps flashing in my mind has to do with something terrible happening to him the day before our wedding. I trust him completely, it's his brother, brother-in-law and every other person who he might encounter that I don't trust. To say that I am worried would be and understatement.

I want him to have a great time, I just want him to be safe, and there's just nothing at all I can do to be sure of that. And oh, have I mentioned that I'm a control freak? Because this? this is exactly the kind of situation that stresses me out to no end. I want to call and threaten everyone involved to within an inch of their life, but I know that it will do no good and I know it's not my place. I realize that I sound like a crazy person right now, but you're just going to have to take my word that it's all really well intentioned.

There are other things that I could rant about, but I think I won't. Most of this is going to blow over and hopefully be a part of the past I completely forget about. I know that the days to come are going to be some of the most stressful, but also happiest and most precious and exciting of my life, so I'm going to try really hard to let go and enjoy them. Trying, not promising.

(Okay, again, if you want to participate in the the contest I'll accept entries (as comments on that post) until Tuesday at midnight Pacific Time)

Oy.

Everyone keeps telling me that I'm way too calm for someone getting married in less than a week. And the truth is, I cycle. I have moments of pure serenity where I just know everything is going to be fine. Like when we picked up the table signs, a small detail that caused a catastrophic calamity and they were pretty much perfect. That was a great great moment. And then I have moments of pure psychosis where I woe-is-me myself about mostly the boob.

To be perfectly honest, pretty much all the wedding stuff is taken care of. I mean, tomorrow, the only thing we're doing is buying a gift for TF's nephew and then finding something to occupy our time so we don't have to talk to the MIL until dinner. I'm sure somewhere in there we'll be plotting a way to deal with the 20,000 last minute traditions she's come up with in the past few days, but for the most part, we'll fart around Los Angeles like we've been doing. I'm thinking we can make it to 3 movies in 3 days if we plan things right tomorrow.

See? Not stressed. Not even at the prospect of having a rather unpleasant conversation with the MIL about how we do not want to follow the Jewish tradition of having our parents stand at the front with us during the ceremony. This will go over badly, but really, if that's the biggest issue we cross with her (I'm sure it won't be), then things are rocking.

Now, all that said, the boob trauma is just getting me down. I'm trying, so very very much, to keep my chin up, but seriously, it's getting to me. Today it did some good leaking again, which is just not okay and I put another call into the doctor, just so that people on both sides of the country were aware of my displeasure. Seriously. There must be something else I can do.

And moreover, I really can't let this go in a way that lets me off the hook. I'm angry at myself. I'm angry at the doctor. I'm angry at my body. This isn't fair. And I realize how 1st grade that sounds because it is, but seriously, I asked all the right questions, I made it crystal clear that I needed to be healed by now and was given a multitude of assurances that I would be, so really, what the hell? Why, 6 weeks after surgery, is my boob still leaking bright yellow fluid? Why is this in any way okay? How is it possible that there's nothing I can do besides squeeze myself into tiny sports bras with wads of gauze in them?

I cannot stop thinking about it because I know that this isn't just going to go away. That's just not how things work here. I do hope that it's healed for at least part of my honeymoon, but I've come to terms with the fact that it's likely not going to heal before then. Which means a number of things. It means my wedding night will involve a sports bra (totally sexy, I know). It means that I can't wear most of the bathing suits I have for Hawaii, and it means I can't snorkle, or swim or do anything involving getting an opening into my boob wet. And I know that in 20 years, I'm going to think back to my wedding night and remember that damned sports bra. I know I'm going to remember this trauma and I'm pissed to hell about it because IT'S JUST NOT FAIR. See, stress. Much stress.

Once I have a good bought of boo-hooing about that, I usually regain my perspective, re-pack my wound, and get on with my day. And this happens, oh, like every hour. It's exhausting and not terribly productive, I realize, but the more I try not to deal with these feelings, the more they come vomiting out of my mind.

So that's how things are going, if you were curious. Right now, you really never know what you're going to get.

First, the contest. Already so many hilariously wonderful entries, but keep 'em coming. I don't know if he's looked at any today, but I'm laughing my ass off at some of y'all.

So yesterday TF and I went and got our marriage license and then had a bunch of shopping to do. Just as an aside, boy do you buy a lot of gifts for other people for your own wedding. This seems strange to me. But anyways, we stopped in at Tiffany's and got my ring cleaned, then bought the groomsmen's gifts (after TF finally decided on something, after calling me to ask whether or not I realized that the gifts were given out at the rehearsal dinner. Um, yes, I knew that. Perhaps that's why I've been nagging you incessantly about it?). There was a break for food at one point and a few more gifts here and there (almost 75 dollars worth of thank you notes, but hey, did you know that there's just no freaking reason to pay 7.50 per card unless it's lined in platinum with diamond studs? We did too and caught that mistake before it had a chance to happen) and then we headed home.

The MIL was making dinner (though she's on a health kick and currently makes eating a miserable experience because did you know that has CARBS in it? The only thing I can imagine to be worse than the MIL is the MIL on a diet. She's a raving lunatic and she's hungry, so she's a grouchy raving lunatic) and we were looking to be pretty close to on time to the 7pm dinner. Except that we didn't know how to get home.

So I headed out and found a fairly big street, and anyone familiar with Los Angeles can agree that Pico is a big street. But it just wasn't hitting either of the freeways we needed. After about 15 minutes of me insisting that we weren't going the "wrong" way, just the maybe not most-right way, I finally turned the car around and oh hey, found the freeway, running in exactly the opposite direction I had been driving in. Oopsies.

So we got home an hour later, and 30 minutes late for dinner. The MIL was not happy, much ranting insued. But not before the valet downstairs (yes, their condo has valet parking, I know) called to let me know that my car wouldn't start, despite the fact that I had just driven it all around Los Angeles (and Englewood and several other similar neighborhoods, not to mention across the country). I went down to try and sure enough, when I turned the key, it chugged a little and then clicked really loudly. Ruh-Roh.

So TF and one of the valet guys pushed the car to a spot and we checked out the battery and such. The MIL called down no less than 5 times asking if we were going to eat dinner before calling AAA, and even though we told her yes each time, she had to call back just to be sure. I almost threw myself on my hot car engine at one point.

But we did eat dinner. And a nice one to boot. After dinner I called AAA (where I have been a member for over 60 years) and got someone to come out. It was the battery and now, for the rather small feel of 113 bucks, I have a brand spanking new battery including a 6 year warranty (that's like a challenge, you know I can kill it faster than that). 6 years is an impressive warranty, I mean, in 6 years I'll be over 30, living somewhere else, probably with a child. My battery is going to see some pretty impressive things. Or at least, it's going to get me a free replacement if it doesn't.

And that was more or less the tale of the least complicated car problem I've had. Including the 3 car accidents, the blown out tire, the um, 6 other flat tires and the scrape plate that has been completely torn off by the New Orleans off-roading I do on residential streets. To be honest, it was kind of refreshing to have something go wrong in a normal way. You know, it didn't like shoot the battery into the middle of the street or altogether forget how to steer or break properly, so in the end, I think I definitely came out on top (yea, that's what she said, I know).

And now just a meeting with the Rabbi, a meeting with the minister, paying for the cake, getting the cake topper, finishing the table signs (a kinkos bumblefuck just waiting to happen) and you know, every other detail. It's almost here and I'm so freaking excited I can't even begin to tell you. But I'll try. Just not tonight.

Feed Me!

About Me

I'm a 26 year old former teacher turned full time graduate student. I live in Southern California after a 3 year stint in New Orleans with my husband Slappy (formerly The Fiance) and our cats (yea, we're those people).
In February of 2006 I was diagnosed with Chiari Malformation, which is a fancy way of saying that my brain was too big for my skull (get it? overflowing brain). On November 27th, 2007 I had brain surgery which allows my brain to exist indefinitely in my spinal canal. 13 staples, one cow heart lining and a multitude of doctors and medications later, I'm living a much improved decompressed life.